


bake a pretty cake

by Pence



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Baking, Both lads unsure what emotions are and how to deal with them, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tsundere Gavin Reed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 23:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15982484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pence/pseuds/Pence
Summary: Deviancy was still something Nines couldn’t confidently say he found comfort in. He largely preferred to ignore or bury these new 'emotions'--often looking ‘constipated’ (as Detective Reed would elegantly put it) when expression assaulted his facial muscles. A similar burden came in the form of distractions. Attention caught by small, unimportant details that would have otherwise alluded him before the walls had come down.Running his fingers endlessly through Sumo’s fur, marvelling at the soft texture against his palms and the comfortable weight pressed to his thigh; the beast begging for more. The swirl of creamer when initially applied to Gavin’s coffee, billowing like storm clouds in a dark sky.And in this instance….Muffins.





	bake a pretty cake

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative title 'How two idiots fell in love over a muffin'. 
> 
> This is technically going to be a series of about 4 oneshots, revolving around bake goods and emotionally constipated boys. While I'm working on my longer, extremely depressing 900Reed fic, I thought it might be nice to get this out of my head as stress relief.
> 
> Plus who doesn't love a good, offset "bakery au".

Caramelized, sparkling peaks of sugar cascade over the soft brown of golden valleys. Swirls of cinnamon flow as a river throughout the morning pastry, descending deep into the buttery, soft mantle--undoubtedly folded with care into the original batter in hope of preserving the elegant pattern in equal distribution. All settled delicately within an amusingly pretty lilac cup.

Deviancy was still something Nines couldn’t confidently say he found comfort in. He largely preferred to ignore or bury these new 'emotions'--often looking ‘constipated’ (as Detective Reed would elegantly put it) when expression assaulted his facial muscles.

A similar burden came in the form of distractions. Attention caught by small, unimportant details that would have otherwise alluded him before the walls had come crumbling down.

Running his fingers endlessly through Sumo’s fur, marvelling at the soft texture against his palms and the comfortable weight pressed to his thigh; the beast begging for more. The swirl of creamer when initially applied to Gavin’s coffee, billowing like storm clouds in a dark sky.

And in this instance….

Muffins.

The coffee maker gurgled unattractively a step from where Nines towered, eyes affixed upon the tupperware container. Pastries and snacks could often be located within the Department’s small breakroom, much to the chagrin of his predecessor. Humans historically appreciated the humor in correlating doughnuts with law enforcement--and they weren’t wrong.

Nines had a suspicion that ‘Lulu’s Bakery’ around the corner did half their business with the officers in this precinct--if the pile of pink boxes, dismantled and awaiting recycling in the corner, were evidence enough.

What gave the android pause, however, was finding his attention drawn to the breakfast dessert in the first place. They were obviously homemade given the various girths and sizes tucked within the plastic container--as well as the uneven coloring across their caramelized crusts. The muffins were by no means extraordinary or elegant in their execution.

So what made them eyecatching? Was he short-circuiting?

Perhaps, simply, it was the genuine care that these presented. That someone within the department might take the time to prepare the dessert with gentle attention, only to deposit them on likely unappreciative colleagues. Soft, comforting peace offerings to those whose jobs revolved around horror and disappointment everyday.

The coffee maker let out a dying wheeze as the last few drops of amber liquid were squeeze into an awaiting mug -- ‘May Contain Whiskey’ printed in an abrasive, blocky font along its side. Nines’ attention turned away from the muffins as his long fingers extracted the cup from the machine’s filthy spill catcher.

His attention was minimal as he poured the dairy substitute into the mug, pupils flickering within pale eyes as the creamer curled as expected. As appreciated. After months of working as Detective Reed’s partner, a man of patterns and comfortable consistency, the android had long learned how to mix a perfect cup.

Long gone were the mugs gone cold or grating insults after reluctant sips--replaced by a mutual understanding and tradition when it came to mornings in the precinct. Orders were not required in fetching the human a cup of coffee and gratitude was unvoiced, unexpected once placed at the human’s elbow.

That didn’t stop the android from recording every small smile or release of the Detective’s shoulders after the first sip.

The cheap metal of the spoon clicked against ceramic as the brew was stirred gently. Pale eyes flicked from the mug once more to the collection of muffins an arms reach away. Nine’s LED spun a curious yellow as pale fingers dipped delicately into the tray before placing a crumby sample upon his tongue.

The android’s version of taste came in the form of information sweeping across his processors. Dark lashes pressed to his cheeks as lids fell closed, particles breaking down and swirling across his vision like cinnamon patterns. Nutritional facts meshed with Gavin’s medical history. Considered the detective’s regular physical activity and exercise sized up against the calorie-dense snack.

It was an extremely unhealthy food with little nutritional value, containing far more calories than even the regular, oily doughnuts the department regularly scarfed down.

But…

It would make him happy.

A napkin is retrieved and wrapped tenderly around the lilac base of the muffin upon extraction, small flecks of sugar shaking back into the container. With pastry and coffee in hand, the android offers himself a single, small nod of encouragement before turning on his heel with a click.

Despite the unappetizing blues and grays the office reflected, a warm and lethargic energy could be felt by everyone today. Whether a stroke of luck or simply the eye of the storm, no major incidents were being called in demanding their attention; the smaller being handed by regular patrol officers.

General conversation rumbled around the room, mingling with the clicking of keys as most took the opportunity as a chance to catch up on paperwork--or surf the web.

Gavin Reed appeared to have joined the latter.

The androids heels clicked in his approach, growing silent as he came to a stop at the detective's shoulder.

“I was unaware that Solitare was more pressing than our triple homicide.”

The human man didn’t bother looking up from where his cheek rested in his hand, eyes fixed on rows of cards in the corner of his screen. The android took note in the way Gavin’s cheek flushed around the area of contact, unsure what to make of the spurt of emotion in his “gut”.

“We have the guy’s ontape confession, CCTV footage, a full autopsy report, and prior convictions for assault and illegal gun possession,” Gavin grumbled, the press of his teeth to the inner flesh of his cheek slurring his words. “It’s clear cut and done. Excuse me if I’d rather not dive straight into fuckin' paperwork.”

Nines gave a soft hum of consideration as the coffee was placed near Gavin’s hand. The man mumbled a small ‘thank you’ as he sat up, hand dropping from his cheek as fingers curled around the mug. Cool eyes watched unblinking as the detective took a sip, lids falling closes as a sigh brushed over his lip.

Filed the gentle expression and rouged cheeks into his deepest folders.

A crick appeared in Gavin’s brow as Nines placed the pastry down as well, swallowing away the unlogical creep of nervousness tugging at his wires.

“What’s this?”

“A muffin.”

The mug was replaced once more unto the desk with a small click-clack, gaze flickering from the pretty, golden treat and up to Nine’s face. Nothing was said about the obtrusive yellow swirl at his temple.

“I know what a muffin is. Why--”

“I don’t-- I…”

The android’s LED flickered red as Gavin’s expression dips into a frown, dark brows knitting together as ever-expressive blue eyes stare up at him.

Panic assaulted the android’s processes, forcing error messages to begin appearing in the corners of his vision. This was a mistake. Gavin Reed is a man of patterns. Appreciates tradition. Has never expressed the desire for any of the baked snacks often brought into the precinct.

His stress levels jumped as he finally understood ‘embarrassment’. Silently wished the walls could resurrect if only to contain the waves of emotion he could still barely understand.

He mechanically reached down to dispose of the snack.

“My… My apologise, Detective. I overstepped--”

The android paused as calloused fingers grabbed his own before he could remove the pastry from the detective’s desk.

“Hey, Nines. Thank you,” Gavin urged quietly as he gave the android’s hand a small squeeze. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re fine.”

Pale eyes stared at their joined hands as the rise in his stress levels came to a halt--panic melting into outright confusion that even his superior operating system couldn’t process. His fingers squeezed back ever so gently, gaze flickering to the human’s face.

“I just don’t like sweets is all,” Gavin said, smile melting into a cheeky grin; words meant to assure that fault lied nowhere close to Nines. “Don’t tell anyone but I used to be the pudgy kid in middle school. I try to stay away from this sort of shit if I can.”

Gavin gave Nines’ fingers another small squeeze, deaf to the rattling of the android’s mind as he retracted his hand to retake the cup of coffee.

Why didn’t he want to let go?

“Maybe Anderson might appreciate it, huh?”

The Lieutenant certainly did appreciate the second muffin placed upon his desk, much to the protest of RK900’s predecessor. He listened half-heartedly to the partners' bickering--Connor practically crawling onto his desk in an attempt to stop the human from shoving half of the treat into his mouth--eyes trained back onto Gavin.

Didn’t miss the gentle glint of satisfaction over the brim of his cup as he watched Hank shove the rest into Connor’s mouth in an attempt to silence his protests, before turning back to his terminal.

Curious.


End file.
